didn’t want to provoke his father, but the whole thing had made him curious. His father must have sown a few wild oats in his day. There was still a hint of a wicked twinkle left in his eye.
“Don’t you remember being young once, Dad?” Cisco asked him.
Orlando made no effort to deny it. “Yes, I do, which is exactly why I am saying this to you now.” And then he turned his attention to Matteo. “And you, you have no business telling your brother what to do after you neglected to act according to your own feelings.”
Matteo just looked at him, mystified.
“She was waiting for you to say something,” he told Matteo. “And you let her slip through your fingers.”
Matteo had no idea she was anywhere near his fingers to begin with. He had just been working up his courage to engage her in a conversation when Cisco all but pounced on the hostess.
“If you ask me, the better man won,” Cisco commented to his father with just a hint of a smirk directed at Matteo.
To be honest—and he was, in the depths of his own heart—he had only asked the hostess out because he saw that Matteo was exhibiting interest in her. Beating him to the punch was, he thought, a good way to light a fire under his brother and get him moving so that the next time, Matteo would be the one who was first to ask her out.
“No one asked you,” Matteo snapped.
Orlando looked from one son to the other and wearily shook his head. “You know, perhaps I was too hasty to try to convince you boys to move out here to live. The peace and quiet I had for all those months made me forget how you two were always going at one another when you were growing up. Apparently you haven’t outgrown that trait.”
Cisco laughed. “I see right through you, Dad. You can talk and complain all you want, but admit it. You missed having us around, competition and all—not that it was ever much of a competition once I decided to throw my hat into the ring.” He gave Matteo a smug, superior look that he knew would bother the younger man.
“You’re delusional,” Matteo told him.
“And you have no memory of things at all. Otherwise, you’d know I was right. If I set my sights on something or someone, the game is already over because, for all intents and purposes, I have won it. All that remains is to collect my winnings,” Cisco concluded. He secretly watched Matteo from beneath hooded eyes to see if his words had succeeded in pushing his brother into action. In his opinion, there were times when his little brother was too laid-back. Goading him this way was for his own good. And if not, well, it was Matteo’s loss, right?
“Enough,” Orlando warned. “I invited you two here to have a nice family meal—so eat!” He looked from one son to the other. After a beat, both complied with his command.
Orlando found the silence gratifying and refreshing. At least now he could hear himself think.
And what he was thinking about was how nice the silence was.
Rachel closed the door to her apartment behind her and walked into the kitchen. A minute later, she did a U-turn and crossed back to the door. Not to open it again in hopes of catching the man who had just dropped her off because she’d had second thoughts about not asking him in for a drink, but to flip the top lock into place to ensure her safety. The original lock that came with the door was rather flimsy at best.
Five years and security was still an afterthought for her, Rachel thought with a shake of her head.
That was because five years ago, she was living with her seven siblings in a palatial home in Austin. The servants who took care of the house were the ones who made sure doors were locked and everything was always secured. The entire house and grounds were wired with a state-of-the-art security system.
It had been a whole other world then. As one of Gerald Robinson’s daughters, her every need had been anticipated and met. Had she wanted merely to float through life, doing nothing more strenuous than enjoying herself and contributing nothing to the world around her, that option had been there for her to take.
But she had always been the stubborn one who wanted to make her own way, earn her own money, be her own person. And never more than now—for herself as well as to atone for her father’s indiscretions.
Maybe, Rachel mused as she stepped out of her high heels on the way to her tiny bedroom and more comfortable clothes, that earlier way of life had jaded her somewhat, spoiling her for the actual realities of life.
What other reason could there be for her feeling like this after the evening she had just had?
Cisco Mendoza had been as good as his word, waiting for her outside the Cantina when she’d walked out at a few minutes after eight o’clock tonight.
Any other woman would have felt like Cinderella, being whisked off not in a coach that had formerly been a pumpkin but in a shiny, fully loaded black luxury SUV. When she’d asked him where they were going, he’d given her a sexy wink and said in an equally sexy voice that it was a surprise.
She had to admit to herself that that had made her a little nervous. Growing up in Austin as the child of a very rich man, her mother and the family housekeeper had made her and her siblings acutely aware of being on their guard against possible kidnappers. Having money did not come without a certain downside.
She was fairly certain that Cisco Mendoza didn’t know about her real background—although she couldn’t be 100 percent sure—but then again, there were other reasons for women to go missing.
Cisco must have noticed her tension, because several minutes into their road trip, he laughed and told her where they were going. He was taking her to Vicker’s Corners, a town that was roughly twenty miles away and had once been as quaint as Horseback Hollow. But the citizens of Vicker’s Corners had chosen to embrace progress, and the town was now well on its way to becoming far more urban than rural.
“I’m taking you to The Garden,” he’d added. And then, just in case she wasn’t aware what that was—she was, but she pretended she wasn’t because he seemed to delight in surprising her—he went on to tell her, “It’s a trendy little bistro. I thought you might like to have a little change of pace. It’s different from The Hollows Cantina,” he promised.
She knew he meant it was more romantic than the upscale restaurant where she worked. Apparently Cisco Mendoza was pulling out all the stops.
She wished her heart was in it—but it wasn’t, no matter how hard she tried.
She’d told him that she appreciated his thoughtfulness, then felt the need to point one little fact out, careful to keep it generalized so that he didn’t know she was well-informed about the restaurant in question.
“If it’s so trendy, wouldn’t getting a reservation on the spur of the moment be really difficult? They’re probably booked way in advance.” She made it sound as if she was guessing, but the truth was that she knew for a fact The Garden was booked solid.
Cisco’s grin had gotten wider at that point—and, if possible, sexier.
Another wink only intensified that
